Tantalus
by Keasbey Nights
Summary: Just how did the System eradicate Kite from The World, and why was BlackRose condemned right along with him?


**Tantalus  
Part 1 – The End**

_I've got big dreams, but no self-esteem, you know?  
I'd reach for the stars, but I can't find my arms  
all this time we've accomplished so much…  
Why can't I believe? Why can't I just feel love?_

_Going away, leaving today  
you gotta find a brand new hero  
Going away, leaving today  
You gotta find a brand new hero_

_I let you down when you're not around, you know  
I can't be trusted with anything  
All this time we've wanted so much…to just belong  
Why can't we just feel love?_

_Going away, leaving today  
You gotta find a brand new hero  
Going away, leaving today  
You gotta find a brand new hero  
What will they say when I've gone away?  
Gotta find a brand new hero_

_Always talking but I never say a lot  
And I'll blow it if I get another shot  
Because it seems like no matter what I've got  
It feels like it's nothing  
I feel like I'm nothing_

_Going away, leaving today  
You gotta find a brand new hero  
Going away, leaving today  
You gotta find a brand new hero  
What will they say when I've gone away?  
Gotta find a brand new hero…_

_Brand new hero  
_Brand New Hero – Reel Big Fish

Kite was laughing for reasons he couldn't quite define. It was a rather harsh and rather loud barking sound, come to think of it; it reverberated coldly throughout the now-nearly-silent Aqua Capital, each player stunned to find a short Twin Blade with a custom-made character design standing around at the bridge and just _laughing_ like that. It was an obtrusive sound, not like his usual fits of good-natured chuckles he usually indulged in. It was just _cold_. Which lead BlackRose to deduce that he actually had no real reason to laugh about.

BlackRose was highly, highly disturbed. Who was this insane asylum escapee and what had he done with Kite?

"Kite?" she ventured tentatively, the Forsaken Light disappearing in her hands so she could slowly but assuredly reach out to him. She was at arm's length. Who wouldn't have been? "Uh…are you okay?"

He was still laughing. Was it possible the Bracelet had taken its toll on his sanity?

She bit her lower lip briefly and muttered a quick apology to any deities who would condemn her to the farthest depths of the underworld for performing a heinous act against a hero, and her hand flew out, her palm making contact with the side of his face.

The slap reverberated throughout the Aqua Capital, and it was as though Mac Anu had been brought back to life. The small-scale city teemed innocently at life, all threats of a madman at large dissipating with BlackRose's…err…vehement actions. Yes. Left a nice red hand imprint, too. She sure could slap.

Cyan bangs and the loose flaps of his cap shadowed Kite's face, but to his comrade's relief, he merely pressed his hand on the side of his face and slowly looked up with a wounded expression.

"That really hurt," he said halfheartedly, though he was looking her up and down as though he'd never seen anything quite like her before. Her pink eyebrows tilted upward in concern and, to a larger extent, bewilderment. The boy was on hardcore drugs. "…Oh," Kite said at last, blinking owlishly at least six or seven times before beaming. "Hi, BlackRose." His expression was blank and puzzled, as per usual. "What's up?"

Hardcore drugs, she swore it. "…You okay, Kite?" she asked, her tone more cynical than worrisome.

"No," he said automatically, though a goofy grin had appeared on his usually placid features. Okay, _now_ she was starting to get a wee bit panicked. And then abruptly, he spun around to lean over the bridge railing, face upturned. His smile had weakened, and the wind toyed with his hair, tossing the thick strands this way and that.

BlackRose stood next to him, her hesitance gone and replaced with the usual warmth and familiarity associate with—with Kite. Always, always, with Kite.

"BlackRose," he began, and she inhaled sharply but silently, inwardly preparing for a speech of some sort. "Have you ever wondered what we'll do after this…?"

She paused, idly threading her fingers through her roseate hair; come to think of it, she didn't usually. It was foolish, she realized, that she never really pondered the consequences of leaving The World. She had childishly assumed it to be a constant in life, and inwardly the swordswoman fumed, and yet at the same time wondered. Life without her friends seemed almost preposterous. BlackRose chuckled as the word announced itself in her head, but when Kite looked at her quizzically, she simply replied, "Actually, no, not really." Another pause. "I…never thought there'd be an 'after'."

Kite's smile fell from his face, and she wondered if she'd said the wrong thing. He startled her by loosely intertwining their fingers, a gesture he hadn't attempted to initiate in a good while. He fiddled nervously with her fingers, the delicate, slightly pointed fingernails glinting faintly beneath the eternally dwindling sunlight, and she flushed in spite of her confusion. He was being vague, and avoiding the subject at hand.

"I'd…really like to meet you…offline sometime, BlackRose…" he mumbled, gaze alternating between her knuckles and the aqueducts below. "Because…after all…never know when we might not be able to see each other…like this…you know?" She studied him carefully, trying to further read the glint in his slate blue eyes; failing, she furrowed a brow, opting to take a more outright approach.

"Kite, what are you implying?" BlackRose inquired almost testily, squeezing his gloved hand.

Kite wrenched his hand away and massaged his temple, and opened and closed his mouth multiple times, before finally giving up with a low, Sanjuro-like growl. "It's…it's hard to explain. I…" He swallowed. "Just…if, you know, anything happens…"

"…_Kite_—"

"But," he interrupted, as though he hadn't heard her, "they can't do anything…" The goofy and slightly hysterical smile appeared on her face again, and she backed away. "…without my…" Chuckle, laugh. "…_acquiescence_."

BlackRose thought to slap him again, but he was laughing more to himself this time, leaning over the railing again.

"I don't have a lot of time," he confessed, twiddling his thumbs without sparing her a second glance. "I have to make a choice…and it's so easy to say no. I'm under Helba's protection. They can't do anything if I ask her for help." He smiled, and she remained confused; oodles of words fell from his lips, yet no secrets came into light. She remained silent. "I can say no. I can stay here, both a hero and a villain."

_Stay here…?_ a smaller, less ignorant part of her mind squeaked, and she was attuned to it immediately as her mind assailed and revised his words, swarming and overtaking, and with every realization her eyes widened just a little. Just a little, though. She hadn't lost her control completely. She wanted the words out of his mouth.

"…They can do a lot of things to me," he said after a moment's pause. "They can force their ideals into the mind of every player in The World, because…that's what they do. I could be hunted, more so than I 'already am'." His eyes opened, and shifted to her, slowly, tantalizingly, until they locked unto her wide burgundy orbs; he was unreadable sometimes, and sometimes she _hated_ that. "They could put you…and everyone else…in so much danger."

Her words were firm and adamant, but somehow BlackRose knew he would question them for a long, long while. "I don't want you to leave." Her fists clenched, nails digging into the slick leather covering her palms; small, crescent-shaped indentations formed. They would disappear soon enough. "You're _not leaving us_."

She thrust her hand out, a gesture obscenely quick and nearly gutting some poor bystander.

"I won't let you!" BlackRose yelled—almost _screamed_, her voice strangled somewhere between the voice modulator and her cracking façade.

Like she had a choice in the matter. She was being a fool.

"BlackRose," he said in what could have been mistaken as a stern voice as he turned around, eyes void of their usual determined glimmer; the pupils had shrank considerably, specks of black in a sea of blues and grays. The sky before a hurricane.

"Shut up," she ordered, and he obeyed as she swallowed, eyes closing and narrowing. Fingertips penetrated flesh—the line between reality and The World blurred, and in the real world, a girl sitting at her computer pulled out the fingers buried in the midst of her palm. Big holes, those, like the result of sticking your fingertips in sand. She didn't notice her hand was bleeding rather profusely until she logged off later that afternoon…

"That's why I…"

"Terajima-san," BlackRose interrupted in a whisper. She shook her head, and corrected herself. "Ryoko." She stopped talking—it could have been minutes, it could have been hours, and Kite briefly wondered when Ryoko had entered this discussion, but BlackRose continued. "Does she know? Did you tell her? She—" A cough, heavy, laden with something deeper. "—deserves to know."

He was clearly surprised. "N-no… I was…"

She was accusing him, now. "Did you tell _anyone_?"

"I told _you_!" he snapped defensively.

They both paused. Neither had seen _that_ coming, but…Kite's mouth was still open.

The damage was done; now for salt on the wound.

"I…"

She was anticipating something—a good reason, perhaps? Or something more? Actually, she didn't dare to feel hope—not anymore, not for ages now, because it tended to be cruelly snatched right out from beneath her feet. Yes, her feet. Hope is stability. Hope is something to stand on. Flying or falling, they were the same thing; the latter was something to be feared, death in an eternity and a few seconds all at once. People who fall in love never seem to hit the ground, because no one had a proper metaphor for that.

And they just covered it up by saying things like "love is a bottomless pit" and whatnot. BlackRose scarcely entertained metaphors, and if she ever did it was merely in jest and little else. Don't beat around the bush like Kite. He's the one who clams up, not her.

Kite hadn't been reading too deeply into his emotions, and neither had she. They thought for a good while. It was too illogical, falling in love with entities composed of pixels and hex color codes and _binary_. To be tantalized so quickly and so quietly by a voice modified by a microphone. Sometimes a girl tried to convince herself that this was a reality in itself. She failed, and brooded, wondering just how heavy the Forsaken Light would be if she, a plain Japanese schoolgirl, tried to wield it.

He wanted to put his feelings into words, and he failed.

"I don't…know…" he said, softly, the wavering calm in his eyes giving way to a maelstrom of things he couldn't vocalize.

For some reason, Kite understood when she nodded before—before lashing out at him, palm striking out to create a blaring impact on the exact same spot it had before. (And then, she had only been doing it to snap him out of his maniacal stupor.) He understood completely when she turned tail and fled, unable to make anything discernable from this news; he watched her, doing his best not to think, as she was lost in the crowd.


End file.
